


It's a Magic Trick

by ChibisUnleashed



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: AKA no shame at all, Gen, Nightmare Tribbles, Nightmare Tribbles with Morgan Freeman's Voice, Tribbles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 14:22:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11292456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChibisUnleashed/pseuds/ChibisUnleashed
Summary: Pitch Black thought it would be a good idea. He's still not sure if he was wrong.





	It's a Magic Trick

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sylphidine_Gallimaufry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sylphidine_Gallimaufry/gifts).



> I was [challenged.](https://sylphidine.tumblr.com/post/162208734542/jdeforestkelley-star-trek-au-where-instead-of)

It was probably a mix of unwise marathoning, poor choice of movie snacks, and extreme loneliness but suddenly Pitch Black thought it was the most amazing idea ever to use his nightmare sand to bring to life a small army of  _ tribbles.  _

It was a very different sort of fur from his Nightmares, but it was helpful that they did not require eyes that could see. They hardly needed any sand at all for their size and after a matter of hours, he had perfected the technique. Then Pitch got creative, as he was wont to do, and the next thing he knew there were tribbles of a variety of colors around his feet: deepest black to shining lavender to midnight blue with just a touch of gold for flair. 

All that was left was to hear them speak. His Nightmares had the full vocal range of any horse and the Nightmare King was confident he could do it again. The gentle cooing of these tribbles would be perfect. Their delicate tones would lull any unwary person into a sense of peaceful ease.

He lifted a pale gray tribble up to his face and smiled at it with pride, “Go on then, Little One.”

For a moment it said nothing, and Pitch wondered if it needed more encouragement. But then it crept forward but an inch and,

“Parting your soup is not a miracle, Bruce. It's a magic trick.”

Pitch stared. For at least a full minute. At the tiny ball of shimmering fluff still sitting patiently in the palm of his hand.

And then he found his voice.

“I did not plan for this.”


End file.
